“Can you disable it?” Nick said.
“Give me half an hour,” Thad said. “And tell me where your grandfather’s maintenance room is. With the right tools, Patch and I can get it open.”
“So what do we do?” Nick asked, motioning to Phoebe.
“You go hang out with the girls,” Thad said. “And keep Horatio busy enough that he’s not going to come looking for us.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
That evening, Lauren made a reservation for the six of them at an Italian restaurant on Worth Avenue that she knew her mother liked. It was a colorful scene, with a pastiche of Palm Beach socialites, their plastically altered faces frozen in time, overly tanned gay decorators, Manhattan celebrities in exile, and elderly dowagers dripping in costume jewelry who looked like they never left the island. Lauren and her friends were the youngest ones there, but thanks to Thad’s flirting with the maitre d’, they had scored an amazing table and had been comped several bottles of wine.
Nick had decided that after dinner they would make a small fire on the beach and roast s’mores. The boys were reveling over some kind of key that they had managed to find in the house, though no one knew exactly what the key would open. On the beach, as Lauren sipped the beer that Nick had offered her from a cooler, she only wanted to focus on things that were fun, diversions that would take her away from everything.
She sat with Phoebe and Thad on a towel near the crackling fire while Nick, Patch, and Lia tossed around a glow-in-the-dark Frisbee. Their marshmallows had burned to a crisp and were gooey and disgusting, and everyone shrieked each time they went up in flames. Thad helped them whittle down some sticks so that they could roast them without letting them fall into the fire.
For Lauren the trip had been a welcome relief from the city. Perhaps it was silly, but a tropical location like this, not to mention her friends’ happiness, had made her think again of Alejandro. Palm Beach reminded her of that Saturday afternoon they had spent swimming at the house his parents had rented in Southampton, a chic, modern house that looked like it belonged in Miami. It reminded her of the dancing they had done under a background of palm trees to a Brazilian pop sensation singing “The Girl from Ipanema.”
But Alejandro had been foolish. She had told herself this over and over again. Foolish with his life. He had squandered his opportunities. Even worse, he had broken her heart.
Perhaps it wasn’t fair to blame him. After all, if it weren’t for the Society, Alejandro would still be here today.
Lauren looked over at Thad, as he carefully held his melting marshmallow over the flames. She had been so grateful for his friendship ever since he had pulled her out of her self-absorbed bubble several weeks ago. He had been so supportive and sweet, and she was indebted to him. She wished he would meet someone, though part of her also wished that she could keep him all to herself.
Lauren felt guilty for playing such a passive role in getting out of the Society, while her friends did all the work. But she was exhausted and depressed by it all. It was difficult to get excited about Nick’s grandfather’s challenge when her main personal struggle was getting out of bed each morning. She knew she would get through it, but for now, it hurt. Nothing, not even getting out of the Society, was going to change that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Later that evening Patch lay next to Lia on the king-size bed in their guest suite. Aside from their coffee at the Pink Pony, they had barely even had a real date, and now he was in this incredibly romantic situation. They kissed for a few minutes before she broke the mood by asking the question he had been dreading.
“Patch, you’ve got to tell me, what’s going on here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, let’s see: The five of you all seem to speak in your own language, or at least you have your own vocabulary. You all have ankh tattoos on the back of your necks-at least, I’m pretty sure you all do, though I couldn’t see Nick’s too clearly in the pool. You’re obsessed with keys and strange board games. Nick is leading you on some kind of quest, but he doesn’t seem to know what the final goal is. What’s it all about?”
“It’s nothing. It’s…”
“Patch, don’t mess with me.” Her eyes shone fiercely, and he realized he would have to tell her if he wanted the relationship to have any chance of working.
“We’re not supposed to tell anyone. That’s what they told us.”
“Who’s they? The boogeymen under the bed?”
Patch sighed and started speaking slowly. “The leadership of the group that we’re in… it’s sort of like a club. We’re really not allowed to talk about it. I don’t know. I guess we’re sort of far away. Maybe the rules don’t apply once we leave the city.”
He knew that wasn’t true. He knew that by telling Lia, he would be breaking the second rule on the scroll that had been handed to him on Isis Island: “You will not speak to Outsiders about the Society, not to family nor to friends.”
Screw that. Until recently, Patch was an Outsider himself. And he still felt like he wasn’t truly a member, not a full-fledged one like the others in his class.
He started explaining to Lia how he had gotten involved in it all, about the Night of Rebirth, about the footage he had taken, about how he had been threatened and kidnapped after infiltrating the island. About how he had joined the very group that his grandmother had warned him about, which had left her none too pleased.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is all so heavy. You don’t need to hear this-the weekend was supposed to be fun, right?”
“I just don’t believe-I mean, this stuff is really incredible. Secret initiations? Threats? Sneaking your way onto an island?”
Patch grinned shyly. “I know, crazy, right?”
“I’m actually sort of… well, I’m sort of impressed. I didn’t think you had this kind of thing in you.”
“Hey, it’s not all fancy private school stuff,” Patch said. “So does all this seem incredibly strange to you? You seem worried about something.”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Let me guess: You want nothing to do with any of it, including me.” He knew he was being melodramatic, but he figured he should put his worst fears out there in the open.
“No, not at all,” she said. “If you’re in this, I want to be right there with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sweetie, is that you?”
Phoebe had arrived back from Palm Beach after being dropped off at her house by Nick. She heard her mom’s voice in the living room, so she popped her head in from the hallway. There was a fire going, and Maia and Daniel were drinking wine.
“I’m so glad you’re back. How was the weekend? It was so nice of Nick to take you all to his grandfather’s house.” Phoebe had been able to tell her mother the truth about where she was going for the weekend, explaining that yes, Mr. Bell’s caretaker would be on the premises at all times in case they got into trouble.
Phoebe could have sworn that she saw Daniel perk up at the mention of Palmer Bell’s house. Maybe it was some kind of Society privilege to spend time at the house of the Chairman Emeritus.
“Um, it was really pretty there. Warm.” She found herself fidgeting in the hallway, wishing her mom would let her go upstairs.
“We should get away more,” Maia said, looking in Daniel’s direction. “I guess work has sort of been preventing that.” Maia had been printing photographs all the time for a new show she had coming up.
“We certainly can, if you want.” Daniel smiled.
“Honey, we have a little something to share with you.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll be seeing a lot more of Daniel from now on.”
Phoebe looked at her mom, confused. “Why?”
“Honey, he’s moving in with us! Isn’t that great?”